


Harlem Renaissance Song

by Aoharu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, harlem renaissance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoharu/pseuds/Aoharu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A song I did for English last year, about the Harlem Renaissance. <br/>Copyrighted to me, Aoharu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harlem Renaissance Song

Harlem Renaissance Song  
By: Aoharu

V1:  
The days are always hot… it’s like hell  
Bugs crawling around, crittering  
Destroyed crops, no food  
On the bottom isn’t so fun  
As they would like you to think  
The Pinks and The Blues  
Are thought to be separated  
Can’t mix to make purple…  
Although purple is prettier than both 

C: There! Right There! I see! Words mingling against each other. The way to freedom, our salvation.   
Like water, One molecule moves, so do the rest are to follow.   
I heard Cleveland is good. No, New York’s better! Let’s go Chicago. Why not Detroit?  
The promise land is filled with green. Working hard, we’ll get some of that.

V2:  
The mute has been turned off  
But the chitterling is very soft  
A shiny object came to me in my dream  
Of a pure gold color, music filled the air, a sweet sounding resolve  
I found the object, It is mine forever now  
Use it to show you all  
The music, It has shown me   
How the music inspires people, Oh, especially the Blues  
A culture of their own to claim a link back to their heritage  
Songs, poems, music, art pieces, novels, All for the world to see…

C: There! Right there! See? Words mingling against each other. The way to freedom, our salvation. Like water, starts with a tickle, then it all pours out.   
Writing, singing, crafting, making, various instruments  
The promise land is here, with sweet music. Filling the soul up with joy. Speading around through the air, all the love it would feel

V3:  
The stolen words  
Can’t be replace  
The music is now damaged  
Went from Left to Right  
The Right is very charming to the Pinks  
Something good now dissolved into nonsensical goo  
Pinks eat it up like their processed fake food  
Forget about the ones who made it  
Resounding anger rising   
That’s mine. We did the original.   
So who cares? They don’t.   
They don’t wanna listen... The few who do, to be silenced.   
It goes on for many more centuries  
Over again, and again, and again, and again, and again…  
Many times, over, again, and again, and again, over and over…  
Like a broken record…


End file.
